The Fireplace
by SecretFruits
Summary: After a hard week of Triwizard prep, Harry, Ron, and Hermione play truth or dare. Pure fluff. Some implied RonxHermione but mostly a trio friendship fic.


Written for The Houses Competition, Gryffindor, Themed, Year 1, Round 7, (event) A game of truth or dare.

Word Count: 2069

* * *

"And checkmate."

Hermione scowled, clearly annoyed to have lost yet again. Harry covered his mouth with his hand to hide his amusement.

But, observant as always, Hermione noticed. She scowled at him too. " _Honestly,_ Harry! I don't know what you're laughing about. You really ought to be studying for that quiz of Flitwick's, you know; it's only—"

"Come off it, Hermione." Ron smacked her king with his own, clearly delighted. "Harry deserves a break. We all do. He's been practicing like mad for that ridiculous tournament."

They, Harry supposed, were both right. He had been working like mad, barely sleeping, and his best friends used every waking hour to quiz and drill him. Hermione looked almost as exhausted as she had during their third year, which was saying a lot. But she did have a point—he'd barely thought about Flitwick's quiz, neglecting any class that wasn't Defense.

"And," Ron continued, "he's exempted from end of year examinations." He marked the last word by snapping his chess box shut, as if the matter was settled. "Enchanted Orange, Harry?"

As Hermione continued to glare, he passed a small, blue box of candy slices the color of his hair. The two boys shared a couch, while Hermione sat across from them. A small table was placed between Ron and Hermione, leaving Harry space to stretch his legs.

"Are they one of Fred and George's things?"

Hermione batted the box away half-heartedly. "Of course they are, Harry." But, to his surprise, she wasn't reaching for her schoolbooks. Instead, she leaned back in her arm chair, and pointed her wand at the fireplace. It sparkled to life, blue instead of the natural oranges lit by the house elves. Harry's eyes flickered to Hermione's SPEW badge affixed to her striped purple pajamas. He and Ron had taken to changing out of their school robes immediately after curfew, largely to escape the badges, but it seemed Hermione was beginning to work around that too….

And then Harry started laughing, because his best friends were amazing and wonderful and perfect and _ridiculous._

Ron glanced at Hermione, an eyebrow raised and arm still outstretched. "I reckon he's losing it."

Hermione nodded sagely. "Perhaps, Harry, you ought to take the night off. Sleep early, and you can get a good start tomorrow morning."

Still laughing, Harry remarked, "I wish I could play Quidditch."

"You _can't,_ Harry, you know how dangerousthat would be!"

Ron plopped the box of candy on the table. "Fred gave me these and no way in Merlin am I letting him think we were too chicken to eat them!"

Hermione, it seemed, had a scowl permanently posted on her face that evening. " _No,_ Ronald. Last night Demelza Robins was stuck as a pigeon for almost half an hour."

Ron flicked one in the air. "Truth, then?" It landed on his lap, specks of sugar dusting his red pajamas.

"Truth?" Hermione looked confused, but Harry had a feeling he knew where the conversation was going….

And it wasn't to bed, or to Triwizard practice. And for that, he was grateful. Even if he would regret it in the morning. "My cousin used to play that game."

Clearly catching on, Hermione sighed, but didn't argue. In fact, Harry noticed a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. He filed the memory away for future use… it seemed his best friends wanted to get some _truths_ about each other…

"Alright." Hermione glanced cautiously at the box of orange slices. "You first, Ron."

Ron licked the sugar dust off his fingers, looking as if Christmas had come early. "Truth or dare, Hermione?"

"Truth, Ron."

At this, Ron looked perplexed. Harry supposed he'd expected more of a fight. He opened and closed his mouth several times, as if debating between several competing impulses. When he did speak, it was with a forced lightness. "So, do you and Krum talk about SPEW a lot?" He leaned back, looking very satisfied with himself.

Harry, doubled over, thought his ribs would explode. Ron patted his back.

" _No,_ Ron! And it's not SPEW. It's the Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare. He did ask my about my badge once, and seemed very interested, but other than that we've never talked about it!"

"Well, I mean, if you care so much about SPEW, he's an international Quidditch player—"

" _Harry."_ Hermione looked pointedly at him. "Truth or dare?"

Harry looked up, determined. "Dare." _Harry, I dare you to go rewrite Flitwick's essay! Maybe ask him for extra credit…._

"I want to see your Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare badge on you for all of next week."

Supposing that was deserved, Harry reached into his bookbag, then clipped the badge to his chest. "You're on, Hermione. Truth or dare?"

Looking surprised, Hermione pushed her bushy hair behind her. "Truth."

"Have you ever lied to a teacher? That we don't know about, I mean."

"Yes," Hermione murmured.

Ron looked up, thrilled. "Who?"

"That wasn't the question, Ron."

"Come _on,_ Hermione!" Ron finally popped his candy into his mouth, causing Hermione to affix him with a look of disgust. "That's not the spirit of the game."

His protestations were interrupted by a loud POP, and a large rabbit appeared in his place. A moment later the rabbit shed its fur to the ground, revealing an upset looking Ron. "Bloody hell, Fred told me they were normal and of course I believed him; I just didn't want him to take the mickey when I didn't eat them." He murmured a string of curse words, but Harry suspected it was more as a routine show of irritation with his brothers than actual annoyance.

Hermione grinned, mischief sparkling in her brown eyes. "Truth or dare, Ron?"

As the rabbit fur vanished, Ron replied, "Dare."

"I dare you to eat another one."

This pronouncement was followed by another series of expletives. And, sure enough, Ron was soon replaced by a warty green bullfrog. And then, with a large croak, he was back.

Harry slapped him on the back. "I liked you better that way, Ron. Brown bulges really suit you."

Ron watched as the last of the warts vanished from his arms. "You'll pay for that one, Hermione. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"When you lied to a Professor, who? And why?"

Harry could see a faint pink coloration in Hermione's cheeks. "Second year. McGonagall noticed that I was always running to the second floor girls' loo..."

Hermione's blush deepened. She lowered her voice to something less than even a whisper, though only a group of tired looking fifth years remained in the Common Room, huddled against the far wall. Ron and Harry leaned towards her. The trio was so close that Hermione's hair brushed both of their shoulders. "She...she thought it was _lady problems._ She asked me if I needed Madam Pomfrey. And I… I let her walk me there, and I spun them this whole tale… well, I know _loads_ of lady spells now. They left me a whole book on it."

Ron's face was brighter than his hair, and Hermione wasn't much better. Harry, who didn't really see what was so embarrassing about it, bobbed his head. "Great thinking, Hermione."

This just served to embarrass both of them even more. Hermione looked like she was trying very hard to look dignified, and Ron looked like he was trying to swallow something very unpleasant. Finally, he choked out, "Bloody brilliant, Hermione!"

Harry considered pointing out the pun, then decided he didn't want his two closest friends to have aneurysms.

Turning her mortified gaze on him, Hermione choked out, "Truth or dare, Harry?"

One glance at the sweets in front of him made up Harry's mind for him. "Truth, I suppose."

For a moment she looked vindictive, ready to punish Harry for his first question and all its subsequent revelations. But then her eyes softened. "What would you like, Harry?"

Harry blinked, confused. Ron cocked his head to one side, as if that would somehow help him re-hear Hermione's question.

"If you could have anything right now. What would it be?"

Harry remembered those lessons with Lupin, barely more than a year ago and yet in some other lifetime. So much had happened since then… Sirius… Pettigrew… the Triwizard Tournament…

He'd been happier at Hogwarts than he ever had with the Dursleys, but he'd still carried a sense of longing, a hole that all the magic spells in the world couldn't fill. And yet somehow—somehow, despite Crouch and Skeeter and the Tournament and everything else—that hole had begun to shrink. Thinking of his best friends, he felt a surge of affection. _Bloody brilliant is right._

"I wish Sirius were here. Playing with us. I think he'd like that."

Ron gave his arm a gentle punch. "Soon, mate. Soon." He cast Hermione a somewhat reproving look, as if he found the question insensitive. Harry marvelled at that. _Insensitive_ was hardly something Ron could talk about, really.

Well, mostly. Harry supposed Ron did have his moments.

"Ron." As he spoke, Harry remembered that small boy with dirt on his nose. He smiled. "Truth or dare?"

As if he could read Harry's mind, Ron rubbed the previously offending area. "Truth, I reckon. Enough of dares for one evening."

"What's the most embarrassing thing Fred and George have ever done to you?"

Ron scowled at the basket of candy. Harry supposed it did represent something. If anything, he looked even more mortified than he had with Hermione's earlier answer.

"They convinced me to ask Mum and Dad for The Talk. When I was five. Only Dad was around, working on that flying car. I walked into the woodshed and insisted on it." He paused, the scarlet in his cheeks reducing. Harry suspected he was enjoying Hermione's awed and undivided attention. "He finally sat me down in that shed and made all these comparisons to car parts…"

Ron's grimace was matched only by Hermione's guffaw. He shot her a defensive look. "At least I didn't get it from _McGonagall_."

Making a mental note to send Sirius a letter with questions as soon as he could, Harry hid his smirk. Neither Ron nor Hermione noticed, absorbed in sending each other nonchalant looks.

"Hermione." It seemed Ron had finally given in. "Truth or dare?"

Hermione bit her lip. As she thrust her chest forward, her SPEW badge seemed especially prominent. "Dare."

"I dare you to break up with Viktor." His tone was as sharp and cool as an icicle.

" _Ron!"_ Enraged, she stood. "He's not my _boyfriend_ so we can hardly _break-up._ Honestly! I thought we'd been over this and I think you're behaving completely _childishly,_ Ronald Weasley! I had _hoped—"_

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding! I...uh...Merlin, I thought you'd pick truth; uh...I dare you to eat an orange slice!" Stammering, he waved his arm in the general direction of the tin.

After affixing him with a look of distaste, Hermione popped a sweet into her mouth. She made a show of savoring it, clearly swishing her tongue around her mouth in a demonstration of relaxation.

And then there was a high-pitched whistle, and an upturned model train appeared in Hermione's seat. It was, Harry thought, a true testament to Fred and George's brilliance—the train had stripes the exact shade of purple as Hermione's pajamas, and its chimney matched the brown of her hair.

Train-Hermione whistled again, and then human-Hermione reappeared, crumpled across her armchair. If her hair had been frizzy before, it was a positive _train_ wreck now.

Spirits clearly lifted, Ron chortled again. "Really dashing, Hermione. Suits you. Shrill scream and all."

Punching him half-heartedly, Hermione rose to her feet. "Honestly, both of you. We ought to get to bed. _How_ you talked me into this I don't know."

"Yeah." Harry stood up after her. "We talked you into this, Hermione."

She cast him a fond smile. "Sleep well, Harry. Don't let this prat keep you up."

And he smiled back. "Sleep well, Hermione."

With a swish of her pajamas, Hermione started across the Gryffindor Common Room, her schoolbag in hand. Ron jerked his head at Harry to follow, then caught up with her.

For a moment, Harry was content to watch. But as the two reached the stairs, the fire dwindled, and so he followed. Tomorrow would bring what it may, and he would face it with Ron and Hermione.

* * *

Thanks for reading! The trio are my favorites, but I haven't ever written them before, since I just find their characterization so tricky. So any feedback is much appreciated!


End file.
